


Toska

by artificialmac



Series: Foreign Word Fics [13]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Foreign Word Fics, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Past Relationship(s), Reminiscing, Self-Reflection, Unhealthy Relationships, fwf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:26:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9490931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmac/pseuds/artificialmac
Summary: Toska (Russian) – Vladmir Nabokov describes it best: “No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This word took me forever to write because it is a feeling that I have experienced myself. It is almost impossible to describe to someone who has never felt it, so I hope I did it justice.

He was cruising around Pittsburgh, drunk, as usual. Chad was at home waiting for him, but he found himself turning and driving in the opposite direction from their apartment. Aaron returned to the Blue Moon.

He had done his best to avoid this place. While it was home to the most wonderful memories, it also housed his biggest fears.

Longing dripped from the walls and hit him in waves that crashed against his chest.

It always smelled the same. No matter how many cities, how many years it had been, nothing smelled quite like this place. It had the usual feeling of despair, that was at all bars, but there was also something else that lingered in the air. Maybe it was just his imagination, maybe he was just drunk, probably both, but it felt like sadness.

That was the only way to describe it. It was like a loss so great and deep that you couldn’t form words.

The sight of the too small stage made him want to throw up, but it could have been the alcohol too. Memories flashed in his mind of the many hours he had spent milling about that stage, singing out of tune and insulting every person that walked through the doors. There were also the times he laughed so hard he cried, there were also times he cried for a different reason.

A vivid memory came to mind then. It was quickly pushed away in favor of much darker thoughts.

‘What if’ his brain mused. What if he had never gotten out of Iowa? What if he had never found Pittsburg? That thought sent him reeling. He couldn’t imagine his life anywhere else, and it pained him to even entertain the idea.

What if he hadn’t gotten on the show? What if he had stayed here? What would have become of him? He thinks he wouldn’t have stopped. Like he had said before, drag had become a need; it was the most addicting drug imaginable, something he had to do. He can see himself on the small stage, performing his heart out every weekend till he was old and grey, for the drunkards and all the lonely souls that came to forget about their miserable, normal lives.

He thought about his possible future. Would he have been happy? He imagines he would be. Drag used to be a passion, a craving under his skin that itched and curled around his beating heart. Nowadays it was easy to forget why he did it in the first place. He was traveling constantly, on no sleep, for little money. Sharon was fading from the spotlight, and Aaron, surprisingly, was ok with that.

He felt that longing deep in his gut that he always got when he thought of his past. He longed for that stage. He longed for his friends. If he could travel anywhere in the world with the snap of his fingers, he knows he would always end up here. He wanted to be here, on the small wooden stage with Cherri and Veruca and Alaska.

God Alaska.

An entirely new emotion flooded his body. What if he had never gotten on the show? What if Alaska had never gotten on the show? Would they have made it? Could they have been happy? Probably not. Their relationship was hell, and not the good kind. It was good in the beginning though. It was good when they lived in a tiny apartment with a cat and each other. They danced around in the kitchen to David Bowie while they both pretended to like living. Alaska had given him a reason to stay alive. A reason to stay in Pittsburg. A reason to be exactly who he was meant to be.

Then he had gotten on Drag Race.

There were some big changes they both had to get used to. Alaska had to live with the fact that she was so close to her dream, and Aaron with the fact that he had taken it from her.

Then he won. Bigger changes. Stress. Fights. Lust. Drugs. Shows. Appearances. Make-up. Hair. Love. Loss.

It was hazy then, and even hazier now. He had been lost in those months. No recollection of time or purpose. He was a robot.

Then Alaska got on Drag Race.

And nothing was ever the same again.

Fights were louder. Sex was louder. Love was louder. Everything became deafening. Alaska managed to plug her ears after a while. Aaron did not. He makes a mental note to ask her if her ears still ring like his do when they are together. He wonders what her answer would be.

She always surprised him.

They ended explosively and with finality. Their breakup destroyed everything and left piles of wreckage in its wake. He knows there was never any other way for them to end.

Drag Race was simultaneously the best, and the worst thing to happen to him. It gave him everything he had ever wanted and more, but everything else was destroyed.

Maybe it was for the best though.

No, it was for the best.

Aaron had to think of it that way.

Otherwise he thinks he might break.

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my series of one-shots inspired by foreign words with no English translation.


End file.
